Poison
by MadameAngel
Summary: I hear you calling and it's needles and pins. I wanna hurt you just to hear you screaming my name. Don't wanna touch you but you're under my skin. I wanna kiss you but your lips are venomous poison." - Alice Cooper. Kirk/Spock. REVIEW and I'll love you!


**A/N: This ended up being nearly 20 pages in MS Word, but I didn't want to hack it up into chapters because then I'd never finish it. It's my first Kirk/Spock "slasher" (as my roommate calls them), so I hope I did them justice. Please review!!**

**PS: If you have a Kirk/Spock slash playlist, I suggest listening to it while you read. It enhances the experience.**

**Disclaimer: If I owned Star Trek, would I be writing fanfiction? Tell me honestly.**

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**POISON**

"You're sure it's poison ivy?" James Kirk asked again.

"Yes, Jim, I'm sure," McCoy replied, scooping some more ointment out of the jar and slathering it over Kirk's back. "What did you do, roll around in the stuff?"

"Um," said Kirk, blushing in spite of himself. In fact, that was more or less _exactly_ what had happened. Unfortunately, Ruth was only an illusion produced by the planet, and _she_ wasn't blistered and burning now. Bones smirked.

"In that case, Jim, perhaps we'd better have a look at the _rest _of you," he said significantly, with a lift of his eyebrows.

"You can't be serious," Kirk said.

"I am," said Bones, barely holding back laughter. "You were stupid enough to – ahem – _play around_ in poison ivy, now you get to suffer the consequences."

"And you're sure there's not a hypo for this?"

"There is, but as your physician, I happen to know that you're allergic to it. So you get to do this the old-fashioned way."

Kirk sighed and bent to pull off his boots and socks. The tops of his feet burned with an angry red rash, dotted with ugly blisters. His pants and briefs soon joined his Starfleet shirt in a heap in the corner of the room, thrown with unnecessary force. He looked down at himself and groaned. His entire body was splotchy, red, and blistered, from his feet to his thighs, throbbing painfully in his groin, spattered over his entire chest and stomach.

"Oh my God," he muttered, running a distracted hand through his blonde hair. McCoy made to hand him the ointment. At that moment, the door swished open. Kirk and McCoy froze, looking at each other with identical shocked and confused expressions. The crew was all still on shore leave, except –--

"Captain, could you – " Spock began, glancing up from the PADD in his hand. He stopped, one foot inside the door. He looked from Kirk to McCoy and back, confused. Then his black eyes flickered over the Captain's nude body. His eyebrows shot skyward and he felt himself flush a brilliant emerald. Fixing his eyes on the ceiling, he said, "Captain, when you are finished, I would like a word."

"Certainly Mr. Spock," Kirk said, as calmly as he could manage. Spock nodded at McCoy, turned on his heel, and hurried away.

McCoy handed Kirk the ointment and a blue bathrobe. "When you're done, just leave the jar on the exam table." He headed into his office with an odd look on his face.

Kirk slowly dipped his fingers into the cool ointment and spread it over himself. Almost immediately, the burning in his skin subsided, drawing attention to a deeper heat that was filling him slowly, entirely unrelated to the poison ivy. He shook his head to clear it. Finishing with the messy task as quickly as he could, he slipped on the bathrobe and headed to his quarters.

Later, after a shower, Kirk was lounging in his quarters, looking over a stack of reports. His door buzzed.

"Come in," he said absently. Spock walked in almost cautiously, obviously not looking at him.

"I need your signature on this report, Captain," he said. Kirk took the PADD and looked it over before scrawling his signature on it.

"Mr. Spock," he began, "I feel I owe you an explanation for what you saw."

"Quite unnecessary, Captain," Spock said, looking over Kirk's head at the wall. "I recognized the reaction to poison ivy. I fail to understand, however, why it covered you so completely."

Kirk wasn't quite sure how to respond to that. "Um… Ruth?" he said guiltily.

"Do you mean that Ruth inflicted your with poison ivy?" Spock asked innocently. "I was under the impression that the planet was for amusement and relaxation."

Kirk groaned inwardly. "No, that's not… what I meant. I mean, Ruth and I, we—well…" He trailed off. Spock raised one eyebrow, then the other. Kirk thought wildly that his eyebrows where in danger of getting lost under his hair.

"I see," he said slowly. "Goodnight, Captain."

***

That night, as the Captain was sleeping, Spock lay awake in his bunk. He had spent nearly three hours meditating, trying to clear recent events from his mind. This was becoming increasingly difficult however. Instead of diminishing, the number of incidents seemed to be increasing.

First there had been that little stunt on the bridge a few days ago. If the Captain had honestly thought that Spock was going to give him a backrub, he was sorely mistaken. Furthermore, Spock was fully aware that Kirk had had no "kink in his back." For months now, Spock had noticed the Captain's subtle teasings and done nothing. He had no desire to hurt the Captain's feelings with rejection, and, although he would never admit it, he got a small measure of selfish pleasure from seeing Kirk's eyes light up, and then frustrating him with his obstinate refusal to be baited.

These last three days had almost been lonely without anyone else aboard the ship. Spock had gotten used to the constant presence of humans and all of their loud, expressive tendencies. The silence _had_ been good for meditation, but even hours of meditation could not shake the bitter taste from under Spock's tongue, the bitter taste that came whenever he thought of Ruth and the way that Kirk had looked at her. Spock would not allow himself to feel jealousy, nor any other emotion, but the thought of Kirk with that woman was nonetheless unsettling.

Now Spock lay flat on his back in his quarters. The high heat, usually so comforting, was almost oppressive. He was restless, his eyes darting around the room, his ultra-sensitive ears picking up the slightest noise. The clock read that it was two-thirty in the morning. Spock knew it was unwise not to rest, but his body would not relax. Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes and began reciting multiplication facts the way most humans would count sheep. Somewhere after "thirty-seven times ninety-three is three-thousand-four-hundred-forty-one," he fell asleep.

But even sleep was troubling. Spock's usually dreamless slumber was punctured with soft lips moving against his own, cool Human skin brushing his, soft hair beneath his sensitive fingers. When he awoke, all he remembered were vague images, no details, only knowing that he had been unusually aroused during the night. He took an extra half hour in his morning meditation to clear his mind before heading to the bridge. It did little to help.

***

Uhura, Sulu, and a random helmsman were dutifully at their stations when Kirk arrived on the bridge that morning. He glanced over at Spock's science station, noticing with a slight pang of sadness that it was empty. He decided to give Spock fifteen minutes before he went looking for him, and just as he settled into his chair, Spock strode out of the turbolift. He walked straight to his station without a glance at Kirk.

"Good morning, Mr. Spock," Kirk said, a smile in his voice. Spock froze briefly, then turned and walked over to Kirk's chair, the tips of his ears turning a light green.

"Good morning, Captain. Please excuse my lateness. I had a troubling night and required more meditation than usual."

"No problem," Kirk replied with a hint of a smirk. "We didn't miss you anyway." His hazel eyes danced with laughter as he looked at Spock. Spock arched one graceful eyebrow as if to say "Oh, really?" before turning back to his station.

"Captain," said Uhura, turning around, "We're picking up a transmission from Star Base Eleven."

"Put it on audio over here," Kirk said, flipping the switch to open the channel.

"_Captain Kirk, Earth Colony Six has recently requested that a number of dogs be shipped to them. One of ours has recently given birth to a litter of pups. We are requesting that you divert here to pick them up and deliver them to the colony."_

"Acknowledged," Kirk said, closing his communication channel. "Mr. Sulu, set a course for Star Base Eleven. We're not far, it shouldn't take long."

"Course laid in, sir," Sulu said. "Warp factor four. Estimated arrival in eight hours."

_Puppies_, Kirk thought. _What could they need dogs for on Colony Six?_

"They are 'man's best friend,' Captain," said Spock from across the room.

"Oh," said Kirk. "Did I say that out loud?"

"You most certainly did," Spock said without turning around. Kirk would bet the entire _Enterprise_ that one of his eyebrows was up.

***

That evening, the crew of the _Enterprise_ was en route to Colony Six with their hands full of Labrador puppies. Riley and a few lieutenants were manning the bridge, so Kirk, McCoy, Uhura, and Sulu were in the recreation room, amusing themselves with the puppies while Spock looked on.

He found himself watching Jim more than usual, noticing how the light fell on his hair, remembering his dream and wondering how it would feel to the touch. Jim noticed him looking and sashayed over, dropping a puppy in his lap.

"Here," he said with a grin, "entertain yourself." He walked back to where McCoy and Uhura sat on the floor with the rest of the puppies. The little brown pup in Spock's hands trembled and he patted it absently, his eyes once again on Jim. The puppy's fur was soft under his fingertips, reminding him again of the dream from the night before.

Spock felt time slipping away from him. He couldn't remember exactly how long he had been sitting here. The puppy squirmed around in his hands, but he seemed to have forgotten it was there. His eyes drifted in and out of focus as he watched Jim, his mind entirely immersed in remembering the dream, and finding Jim… naked… the day before. A distant corner of Spock's mind wondered briefly where his revered logic had disappeared to, but was unable to call it back.

The puppy was licking and nipping at Spock's sensitive fingers, but he had forgotten all about its presence. In his mind's eye, he saw only Jim, felt Jim's mouth on his hands, teasing, licking, _sucking_. His tongue flicked at the webbing between Spock's first and second finger, and he bit back a groan. Fantasy-Jim's eyes sparkled, more desirable than anyone had a right to be. The rec room lights faded beneath the image in his mind.

Spock was dimly aware that his already-high body temperature was rising. The Vulcan half of his mind struggled to keep his facial muscles in check. It was, in fact, all he could do to keep his face from betraying him. A very Human desire was filling him, rapidly overriding all self-control.

"Spock. _Spock_."

Spock blinked, the world coming back into focus. Jim was looking at him, almost concerned. "I am sorry, Captain," Spock said quickly. "I must be more tired than I realized. With your permission, I will retire for the night."

"Yes, of course," Jim said absently. "Sleep well, Mr. Spock." Spock stood up, sending the puppy tumbling to the floor with a squeak. He scooped it up and handed it wordlessly to Uhura before leaving.

For several long moments, Jim stared at Spock's empty chair. McCoy could almost hear the wheels turning in the Captain's mind, trying to figure out what was up with Spock. McCoy had seen the puppy licking Spock's fingers. He knew that hands were erogenous zones for Vulcans, but he wanted to see what Jim made of the fact that Spock had been _staring_ at the Captain while that innocent puppy had licked his fingers, undoubtedly arousing him to a level no Vulcan would dare admit.

Jim's eyes widened and the ghost of a smirk crept up his face. _Oh_. Spock had been staring at him. Spock had been _staring_ at _him_. And the look on his face was entirely new. It was a look Kirk had never seen, at least not on a Vulcan face. But Kirk had figured out long ago that most of Spock's emotions (and yes, he did have them) were shown only in his eyes. And his eyes had been _burning_. It made Kirk warm all over just thinking of it.

There was only one _logical_ conclusion, Kirk though with a smirk. Spock was sexually aroused. And staring at Kirk. Unless he was wrong, and he rarely was, there was a very troubled Vulcan aboard his ship that was having _very_ impure thoughts about his Captain. Kirk's smile grew.

"Figured it out, have you?" said Bones.

"Yes, I believe I have," Kirk said, looking over at him. "Wait, how--?"

"I'm not an idiot, Jim," McCoy said simply.

"No, of course not," Jim replied with a twitch of his eyebrows. McCoy rolled his eyes and turned his attention back to the puppies, who were settling down in a pile to sleep.

Satisfied that no one was paying any attention to him, Kirk stood and left the rec room. McCoy wondered idly if the obvious flirtations would stop, but his gut told him they would only get worse, regardless of whether or not anything happened between Spock and the Captain tonight.

Jim strode along the corridor toward Spock's quarters. He raised his hand to press the buzzer, but paused. The familiar scent of Vulcan incense drifted out from the crack between the doors. Evidently, Spock was meditating. Again. Kirk knew better than to interrupt Spock while he meditated, but he frowned. Usually once a day was enough, but Spock had _already _meditated extra this morning, because he'd had a troubling night. Now why—

And then it hit him. Jim's mind rewound the past two days like a video. Spock aroused while watching him. Spock having trouble sleeping. Spock walking in on him naked the day before. _Of course_. Spock hadn't been suddenly and inexplicably aroused, but his desire had been building for two days, maybe longer. Jim nearly laughed. "Finally," he whispered, turning away from Spock's door. This wouldn't go away so easily, he knew. _I'll wait_. He went to his quarters and stretched out on the bed, clasping his hands beneath his head, wondering how it would be.

***

The next morning, Kirk was confused. What happened last night? Blinking, he looked around. He was laying, fully clothed, on his bed. He frowned, strangely disappointed. He hadn't been interrupted by a very aroused First Officer last night, so now what?

He glanced at the clock on his computer screen. He had fifteen minutes before he was needed on the bridge to relieve the night shift. He hauled himself out of bed and ambled to his shower, dropping his clothes along the way. He was pleased to see that all evidence of poison ivy had faded from his body. That was an experience he did not wish to repeat, and…having sex with Spock would have been very uncomfortable, not to mention awkward. He laughed out loud at the thought. After his shower, he dressed and headed to the bridge.

***

Spock glanced up from his science console when the Captain entered the bridge. Those nameless feelings from last night threatened to claw their way to the surface, but he beat them back, internally berating himself for heading to the bridge early and dismissing the night crew. He thought that, since Sulu and Chekov would be along soon, nothing horrible would happen if the bridge were empty for three minutes. Irrationally, Spock had thought it would be useful to have a few moments alone before everyone else reported. That was a mistake. He had not counted on the Captain reporting early.

Spock's sensitive ears kept him attuned to the Captain's whereabouts. So far, Kirk hadn't said anything, just sat in his chair. But Spock could feel Kirk watching him. Fifty-six seconds before the rest of the crew was due to arrive, Kirk broke the silence.

"Did you sleep well, Mr. Spock?" he asked. Spock could hear the smirk in the Captain's voice. He felt his face grow warm.

"Very well, Captain, and yourself?" Spock said, turning around.

"Not bad," Kirk said. His smile grew. Finally, Sulu and Chekov arrived. They entered the bridge and walked straight to the helm. Chekov walked right between Kirk and Spock, but the Captain didn't bat an eye. His gaze intensified, and Spock felt a slow blush creeping up his neck. Kirk grinned broadly and looked away.

"How long until we reach Colony Six, Mr. Chekov?" he asked.

"Forty-sewen minutes, sir."

***

It felt like the longest day of Spock's life. The bridge seemed unusually quiet, even with Uhura's communication station squawking at random intervals. Sulu was trying to explain fencing to Chekov, with the occasional comment from Dr. McCoy, who was lurking behind Kirk's chair. Kirk was trying to be inconspicuous about watching Spock, but he was failing miserably. McCoy tried not to grin as he saw Kirk glancing over at Spock every few minutes.

By midmorning, McCoy was certain that _something_ had happened last night between Spock and the Captain. For one thing, Jim looked even more confident than usual, and Spock was even more silent than usual. If nothing had happened, why was Spock acting like a guilty schoolboy? He was usually willing enough to banter with the Captain, or at least poke fun at the Humans a bit, but he had hardly said a word all morning. Jim, too, had been uncharacteristically silent, staring at Spock as though trying to burn a hole in the Vulcan's back.

Jim had been his usual charming self during their brief visit to Earth Colony Six, but as soon as the _Enterprise_ left orbit, he lapsed into silence, his narrowed eyes fixed on Spock. If Bones didn't know better, he would have thought that the Captain was angry with Spock. But he did know better, and he had seen that look on Kirk's face before. It was a look he often wore when puzzling over a difficult situation.

He was pretty sure that Jim had never been faced with _this_ sort of situation before, though. Either he _had_ bedded his First Officer and was now trying to figure out why said Officer was ignoring him, or he had _not_ bedded his First Officer and was trying to figure out how best to go about it.

Around noon, Jim stopped staring at Spock and looked at the floor instead. The expression on his face was almost sad, and Bones realized that nothing had happened last night. He gave Jim an encouraging slap on the shoulder as he went off with the rest of the crew to eat lunch. The Captain had volunteered to watch the bridge while everyone else ate.

***

Spock was the last to return from his lunch hour. He was, in fact, two minutes late. He walked straight past Captain Kirk, who stiffened. A faint scent of Vulcan incense wafted off of Spock's uniform. So his loyal First Officer hadn't eaten lunch, but meditated. _Again_. Jim grinned. So the "problem" hadn't gone away, had it?

"Mr. Spock," he said. Spock turned around slowly. "You're late." A flicker of a smile ghosted over Kirk's lips.

"I am sorry, Captain," Spock began, measuring every word carefully. "I—"

"I don't want to hear your excuses, Mr. Spock," Kirk said sternly. "See me in my quarters after this shift ends."

Spock flushed a brilliant emerald. "Yes, sir," he said quickly, turning back to his console. Jim straightened in his chair. It was only a matter of hours now.

***

As the day drew to a close, Jim noticed with delight that Spock was growing restless. The Vulcan's usually flawless grace had given way to sharp, sudden movements. The tips of his pointed ears were tinged a permanent green, and his shoulders rose and fell with unnaturally slow, deep breaths, as though we were trying to calm himself.

The moment the shift ended, Jim was out of his chair and into the turbolift. He didn't want Spock beating him to his own quarters, which would be awkward.

Five minutes later, Spock had still not arrived. Jim called him in his quarters.

"Spock, I believe I asked you to meet me in my quarters," he said in his most authoritative voice.

"I am sorry, Captain, I forgot." Jim could tell, even over the communicator, that Spock was lying. Spock didn't forget. Ever. "I will be right there, just give me a minute to—"

"_Now_," Jim said fiercely. He turned off his communicator and leaned back in the chair, putting his feet up on the desk arrogantly. His pulse thrummed with anticipation. A minute later, Spock buzzed his door.

"Enter," the Captain said firmly. Spock went in and stopped just inside the door. Jim noticed with a thrill that Spock had removed his blue Science Officer's shirt and was wearing only the tight black uniform undershirt. He tried not to gawk as he confronted him.

"Spock, I've noticed that you've been meditating more than usual." Spock held his breath. "It's not like you to be late for anything, and you've been late twice now in the last two days because of meditation. If there's something wrong…"

Spock let out the breath he'd been holding. It didn't seem as though the Captain knew anything.

"No, nothing is wrong, Captain. I apologize for my lateness. It will not happen again."

Jim watched Spock's eyes closely as he spoke. His face was inscrutable, but his eyes were wide and fearful, like a caged animal. A caged animal that wanted nothing more than to _devour_ his captor.

"If that is all, Captain…" Spock was turning to go. Jim stood.

"No, Mr. Spock, that is not all."

Spock froze, looking over his shoulder at Jim. Jim's expression shifted like sunlight on water. Spock felt his emotions growing stronger, heat throbbing like poison in his veins. He knew that he wouldn't be able to meditate it away this time. Jim was reaching for his hand, but he couldn't move to pull it away. Resistance was futile anyway. He knew, deep down, that he _wanted_ Jim to touch him.

He found himself reaching out for Jim's hand. Again, he tried to pull his hand back, but it wouldn't obey. Jim's cool fingers brushed the back of his hand and a quiet moan escaped his lips.

"I'm done waiting, Spock," Jim said, his voice low. A tremor ran over Spock's skin at hearing Jim say his name. Of course, Jim had said his name many times before, but this time was different. This time, Jim's voice resonated with emotion, entirely alien and completely delicious. A primal hunger was spreading through Spock's body, an echo of the rampant emotion that once governed his race. Spock felt it, recognized it, registered it, and something snapped inside him. Who said Jim was the one doing all the waiting? Spock would _not_ be submissive. He wanted Jim to feel the desire and yearning and pain that he felt. He wanted him to _beg_.

Spock turned from the door at last, facing Jim head on. The sudden spike in the tension in the air was palpable. Spock took a step closer to Jim. Jim could feel the heat radiating from the Vulcan's body. His face flushed, and Spock arched an eyebrow.

"What is it that you have been waiting for, James?"

Jim couldn't answer. Spock took another step forward. Instinctively, Jim backed up. He didn't want to, but there was a predatory gleam in Spock's eyes unlike anything he had ever seen. Spock advanced slowly, prowling forward with that unique grace of his. Jim stopped when the backs of his legs hit the edge of his desk. The corner of Spock's mouth curved up in just the hint of a smirk. He took another step and stopped, his body mere inches from Jim's. Spock slowly entwined his fingers with the Captain's, breathing deeply. Jim leaned forward slightly, his desire slowly burning him from within, longing to feel the Vulcan's lips against his own. But Spock leaned back.

"Spock," Jim whispered. "Please." Spock's thumb traced circles on the back of Jim's hand.

"I don't understand, Jim," he said with a raise of his eyebrow, obviously toying with the Captain. "What is it that you are asking?" He smirked.

"Kiss me, Spock." Jim's voice was barely audible. He dropped his eyes to the floor. "Please."

Spock's eyes narrowed. He put one hand under Jim's chin and tilted it up before swooping down to press his lips to the Human's Adam's apple. Jim groaned. Spock kissed him lightly, just under his ear, and goose bumps sprang up along Jim's skin. With one hand, Spock gathered a fistful of Jim's gold uniform shirt and pushed it over his head. Jim's chest heaved beneath his black undershirt. Spock sighed, and gave an extremely annoyed look to the Starfleet uniform.

With devastating slowness, Spock slid his fingers beneath Jim's second shirt. Jim gasped when Spock's feverish hands brushed his skin. Spock peeled the black shirt from Jim's body in one fluid motion. With his long fingers, he traced the muscles on Jim's chest and stomach. Jim moaned delightfully. Spock grazed one warm thumb over one of Jim's nipples. Jim bit his lip.

Softly, Spock nuzzled the hollow of Jim's collarbone. Jim could hardly stand it. He wanted Spock's mouth against his _now_. He tried to maneuver his head around to meet Spock's lips, but, infuriatingly, Spock pulled away again. Jim opened his mouth to complain, but Spock silenced him with another kiss placed beneath his ear.

"God, Spock," he groaned. The Vulcan's answering chuckle was a hiss of hot breath as Spock's tongue traced the curve of Jim's ear. Jim shuddered and felt Spock's lips curl into a smile against his skin. He trailed tiny hot kisses along Jim's jawline, down his neck, across his chest.

"God, Spock, _please,_" Jim panted. Spock unlatched his lips from Jim's collarbone and pulled back to look the Human in the eye.

"Of course, Captain," he smirked. "You had but to ask."

Slowly, so very slowly, he pressed his lips to Jim's. Jim groaned into his mouth. Spock's hands pressed against Jim's back, fingers spread wide. Jim curled his hands into fists around the fabric of Spock's shirt. After a moment, Spock pulled back, breathing heavily. Jim could feel the Vulcan's heart pounding furiously against his arm where it wrapped around Spock's side.

"Finally," Jim gasped, kissing Spock again. Spock kissed him back hungrily, with a passion that was ruthless, demanding, and completely selfish. His mouth left Jim's, biting and kissing a blazing line down Jim's neck. Jim moaned into the darkness of his cabin, arching his back and pressing his body into Spock's.

"I have wanted this…so long…" he managed.

"I know," Spock said between kisses.

"Of course you do," Jim said. Impatient, he pushed Spock's shirt over his head and clutched the Vulcan to him, savoring the searing heat that radiated from Spock's body. Spock moaned through clenched teeth as Jim kissed his neck and shoulders. He could tell that Jim's body temperature was much higher than usual, but the Human's skin still felt deliciously cool against his. He twined his fingers through Jim's hair. It was delightfully soft under his fingertips, better even than the dream. Jim's cool fingers slipped beneath the waistband of his pants and he gasped sharply.

"Jim!"

Jim took advantage of Spock's distraction and backed him forcefully into the wall, straddling Spock's legs with his own, pressing his hips to Spock's. Spock growled low in the back of his throat. The heat, the friction, was almost too much to bear. He could feel a sheen of sweat glowing on his skin. Jim sucked at his neck eagerly. Spock's fingertips dug into Jim's sides. He knew he was probably bruising him, but Jim didn't seem to care or even notice. He pressed Spock closer to the wall and kissed him slowly, languidly, sliding his cool fingers into Spock's pants.

His bold fingers wandered lower and Spock's body leapt against his. Spock slumped back against the wall, pinned by Jim's body. He had the peculiar feeling that his kneecaps had gone missing. Much to his disappointment, Jim's cool touch vanished. He ground his hips up into Jim's, dissatisfied when Jim stepped away, shackling Spock's thin wrists in his hands, pulling his arms above his head.

Slowly, Jim ran his fingers up and down Spock's palms. The Vulcan groaned and arched his back, pressing his body into Jim's.

"You like that?" Jim drawled. Spock seemed unable to answer. Jim shrugged and took one of Spock's hands in his, drawing it down to his face. Spock's eyes widened as Jim kissed each of his fingertips and his palm. Slowly, obscenely, he took Spock's first two fingers in his mouth. Spock's eyes fluttered closed as a moan escaped his lips. Jim whirled his tongue in figure eights around Spock's fingertips, and nipped them sharply with his teeth.

Suddenly, Jim found himself flat on his back on the bed, held in place by the weight of Spock's body. Deliberately, the Vulcan began rocking back and forth, sliding his hips against Jim's. Jim's eyes rolled back as Spock's hands slid down his sides to his waistband of his pants. Quickly, the buttons were undone and Spock tore the pants from Jim's body, dragging his boots with them.

Standing at the foot of the bed, his black eyes devoured Jim's body where it lay, naked and trembling, before him. His eyes never leaving Jim's, he reached down and slid his pants from his body, luxuriously taking his time. He stepped nimbly out of his boots as Jim's eyes raked hungrily over his body.

Spock sank to his knees between Jim's legs. He walked his hands up, slowly pressing the length of his body into the Human's. Jim squirmed beneath him as he kissed his stomach and chest on the way up. Rocking his hips slowly, he pushed Jim's hair off his forehead, where it had been plastered with sweat. Spock kissed him hungrily, his mouth hot and insistent.

"Dammit, Spock," Jim growled, forcefully turning over, planting himself on top. Just as quickly, he found himself beneath Spock again. His First Officer was smirking as if to say, "I don't think so." He pushed Spock to a standing position and surrendered, turning and exposing his back to the Vulcan. Spock kissed the back of Jim's neck as he slowly ran two fingers down his spine. Gripping Jim's hips firmly in his long hands, Spock gave himself, at last, completely over to his Human half.

***

Some time later, Jim stirred in Spock's arms. In the darkness, their lips sought each other. The only sound was their breathing and the rustle of bed sheets.

"Spock," Jim said after a moment.

"Mmmm?" Spock murmured into his neck.

"I love you," Jim said quietly, so quiet that a Human would not have heard him. Spock smiled against his skin.

"T'hy'la."

"What does that mean?" Jim asked, turning to face his Vulcan. He could see that Spock was watching him carefully. The Vulcan pressed his lips to Jim's, kissing him softly, almost chaste in his gentleness. He felt, rather than heard, one emotion crossing Spock's carefully built mental barrier. _Mine_. For several long minutes, there was silence, broken only by the velvet sound of lips moving against lips.

"I love you, too, James," Spock said simply after a while. His fingers danced lightly over Jim's skin, and Jim felt himself slipping back to sleep. In the morning, he knew, it would be back to work as usual. He savored this moment. The last thing he heard before drifting off was Spock's voice in his mind.

"T'hy'la."

*****

**THE END**

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**Whew! So….yeah. There's that! Hope you liked it. I don't know about you, but every time I see/hear/write the word "t'hy'la" I squee. So much love.**

**REVIEW! And I will love you forever. **


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